Days of Yesterday
by Shadow-Dreamer15
Summary: Our favorite doctors parents reflect on them at moments in their childhood. Suggestions for the next character welcome.


William Cameron watched as his son George tried to shift a square block into the triangular hole. Again and again. He never seemed to see that it just didn't go there. That it wouldn't fit.

Beside him his sister Allison was a sharp contrast as she flipped through a glossy picture book. She was smaller and nearly a year younger than her brother, but the three and a half year old was already reading. Neither he nor his wife, Meredith, had taught her. She had just picked it up somewhere. From bed time stories and the captioning on the television his nearly deaf grandmother used for her soaps during the day, he supposed.

She had always been advanced, crawling months before the baby books had told them to expect it. She and Geordie had called him Dad the same day. He had always been behind, she ahead. But that had just been numbers in baby books carefully written, he had never been permitted to write in them ("Will, you write like a savage!" Meredith had declared as she stole Geordie's baby book from him where he had sloppily written George William Cameron III) but had imagined them showing them to the children years later. (Geordie glaring at his little sister when she pointed out how far behind he had been, "Oh, yeah, guess you won't be wanting my old trig. notes next year!")

But he had never imagined the cool waiting room. He had never thought that his son's future would hinge on a test. Allison had taken the test, too, a suggestion from a maternal looking examiner who had seen his nerves and Allison's boredom. But it was not his daughter's test results that had kept him up last night.

"Cameron." A harried receptionist called tiredly, sparing a longing glance at her watch. The hall was long and surely a creation of Dante's. He held Geordie's hand tightly, as if it would change the contents of the manila envelope he'd seen pass to his son's charts. He longed for sound, one of his children to say something, anything, but they were both quiet children and a little scared of the doctor's office still.

It was nearly a relieve when the young Dr. Harris came in the room, charts in hand and a carefully blank face. "Mr. Cameron," he began. "We have George's test back. I'm afraid he is developmentally delayed." He stopped then and watched Will Cameron crumble. He did not tear up, he just squeezed his son's hand tightly.

He had already known really. "How badly is it?" On the table his children sat obliviously. There tiny hands encased in ridiculously large latex gloves. Just a month ago, he'd have joked that they would be doctors when they grow up. But George will never become a doctor. He may never even take graduate from high school with a regular diploma.

"He is in the higher range and can there is a very good chance that with some care and attention he'll be able to function in society on his own." Harris smiled encouragingly here and Will wanted to rip his throat out. Normal was not what you thought when you held your newborn in the hospital. You thought, he could be president, not functioning.

It felt like hours spent discussing special schools and play groups. Then Harris pulled out another folder and smiles, genuinely this time. "I know, this news may not be welcome now, but Allison's test came back and you have a very intelligent little girl."

Harris stayed a bit longer, discussing schools for both Allison and George. Schools for the gifted and schools for the mentally challenged. They are both special, Will realizes in their own way, but in the parking lot it is George he watched walk along side him and George whose seat belt he fastened.

Some children need more attention, more time, he rationalized.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

AN-In that episode, A Line in the Sand, I think, Cameron said something that made me think of this. Something about parents getting a kid that costs more and staying home, it sounded a bit bitter and personal. Thus George was invented. I'm thinking of continuing this with scenes from other characters backgrounds.


End file.
